Arcanist In Another World-Chapter 88: Orientation Over

Night fell by the time they finished with the other houses. All different cases with eerie similarities between them, mainly the victims being widowed women who suffered from terrible losses in recent years. Vulnerable souls who sought a final nudge to do something forbidden.

Mas and Garran’s report was more or less the same when they met back up in the company office. They searched the houses and found clear signs that the women were involved in dark rituals related to the Mother of Venerable Fates.

“Doesn’t make much sense, though,” Garran commented. Sitting across the shared room were all Templars, with Percival handing them hand-written reports about his findings on the book Jack used to allure the women. “They all performed different rituals, but there’s no link between them.”

“We have to find that link,” Captain Edric said, gazing intensely at the sheets in his hand. He arched an eyebrow just then. “So the book was a replica?”

“Indeed, and not a good one,” Percival muttered. “The Warden’s Scribes have told me that the second half of the book was empty, while the first half consisted mostly of rituals gathered from here and there. Looks like whoever gave that book to Jack knew about the Wretched Mother’s The Scarlet Rite. But, it seems these cases don’t have a cohesive relation between them other than that they are all tied to the Wretched Mother in one way or another.”

“That’s cohesive enough, no?” Valens asked, reached, and pulled another file in which there was information on all the victims with photos of them taken in recent years. “Brackley and the Weeping Horror were matters related to the Mother of Venerable Fates, too. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“It’s not,” Captain Edric said with one hand propped under his chin. “But I can’t see the connection here. Sacrificing people is one thing, but these women have been killed in cold blood, and there’s no sign that they have been successful at completing these rituals. Garran, did you see anything?”

“We have a certain Miss Pearl who took her chances with the ritual of womb like the one you had, but there’s no sign of the Hemling.”

“What about the scissors?” Valens asked and crossed eyes with the captain before he continued, “We couldn’t find it in Miss Martha’s house.”

“The scissors were there,” Garran shook his head. “All nine objects used in the ritual were there. Nothing was missing.”

Valens frowned. That didn’t make much sense, as Garran put it. Back in the Empire, he had a few chances to help the Inquisition and the police, but in all those cases, there were people they could use to track the clues or something solid to work with. Here, however, there was nothing.

A suspect who didn’t remember anything, and handed a book that could be considered at best a lousy replica—a couple of murders without a connection between them. Well, there was a connection, as they were all widows, but the Captain told him on their way back that there was nothing more than widows and orphans in Belgrave.

Could it be Evercrest? The woman in Jack’s memories, and the one who deceived Weeping Horror? Are they the same?

Rubbing at his neck, Valens began to think it through as he stared at the pictures of the murdered women while the Templars exchanged different theories, none of which sounded reasonable to anyone.

Let’s start from the beginning rather than focusing on the recent events. I got this Trial after I killed the Necromancer and reached Level 100. That’s in the bag. Everybody gets a Trial at Level 100, but the nature of Trials changes from class to class.

What was the thing that Nomad told me? A Berserker, for one, would have a bastard of a Trial. Celme isn’t an Ancient. Being an Ancient is not something common in this world. Thanks to that, I even managed to resist a Level 400 Dawnkeeper’s divine halo, an aura that forced the Captain and others to their knees.

Yes. I can’t think of my Trial as a mere challenge. If I belong to the line of Surgemasters, the Ancient Masters who wove the Spiritum back in the day and ended the Ancient Era, then my coming to this world might have triggered something big.

That’s only true if there are no other Surgemasters left in this world, however. But then, the Midnight Assembly and the throne… The members told me that the statue had been lifeless for decades. So I can assume I’m alone here.

Good, then it’s simple. The only thing I have to find is what’s changed after I came here.

That sounded easy and simple in his mind, although the reality was anything but. He didn’t know even a quarter of this world, and wasn’t aware of certain organizations and orders and what sort of plots they were brewing behind people’s backs.

“Any word from the robbery? Hanson’s team is on that case, right?” Garran said.

Valens pulled his mind away from his thoughts and focused on their conversation. Looked like they were done entertaining baseless theories.

“Not yet,” Percival answered. He acted as the bridge between the Cathedral and the group, responsible for handling the sensitive information. “They are still working.”

“Veil and Resonance,” Captain Edric said heavily. “The Ancient Trait Veil is related to the Mother of Venerable Fates. It’s the Wretched Mother’s own Trait, which Lenora told me can’t be shared with the minions of her court. We are not even sure those books in the Library can be used or deciphered. That’s the whole reason we keep them here.”

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“What about Resonance?” Garran asked. “It’s the first time I heard it.”

“Fool,” Mas huffed at him. “How can you not know about that Trait? We’ve spent years in the Brotherhood learning about this stuff.”

“Never much cared for those lessons,” Garran shrugged. “I have a thing that makes it harder for me to focus when the matter is about some group from thousands of years ago.” freewёbnoνel.com

“It was the Core Trait of Surgemasters,” Mas answered after giving him another look. “The ability to hear the songs of the world. Not much is known about them other than the fact that they were the ones who ended the Ancient Era. Some think they aided Resni when he did the Carving, some others believe they abandoned us humans after dealing with the Forsaken.”

Well, I have a few thoughts on that topic.

“Fine. We’ll leave that matter to Hanson for now. We should focus on these murders,” Captain Edric said. “Start by looking into these women’s pasts. I want each one of you to dig deeper. Learn whatever you can about them.”

“Dirty work. What a present for all the shit we’ve gone through in the country.” Garran shook his head. “That ain’t going to be easy, Captain. They already hate each other’s guts in those slums. You think they’re going to speak?”

"Show them the stick, that'll work," Mas said. "That's the only language they speak."

"We're not brutes," Percival interfered. "And we can't just beat anyone looking mildly suspicious. There's a reason why police don't go chasing people in the slums."

“Percival is right. Find another way,” the Captain commanded, then glanced at Valens. “That includes you, Healer. I declare your orientation is over as of today. Prepare to get your hands dirty, and know that I have my expectations about you. A Hexmender available at hand… That’s a privilege we haven’t had before. Use your skills.”

Mas was glaring at him while Garran gave him that grin of his. Valens, though, was more interested in the notion that he would be playing the detective alone in a giant city like Belgrave.

But I don’t want to go knocking on one door after another. The city’s too big for that. I need a different perspective here… Ah, I found it!

“All of my skills?” Valens probed.

Captain Edric looked puzzled, shifting on his chair before asking, “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, during my short time in the city, I happened to notice a most depressing reality,” Valens said.

“And that is?” Captain Edric said.

“The poor are suffering harder than the rich,” Valens said. He straightened his back and moved on with a serious tone, “Crowds, I saw before those churches. Hundreds of people are seeking a cure, but only a few are finding one. There’s a terrible shortage of Priests in this city, Captain.”

“There’s a shortage of any kind of healer wherever you go in Haven’s Reach,” Mas said, the veins across his neck bulging. “Even in the Caligian Lands, the poor are suffering. That has nothing to do with Priests.”

“You might be right,” Valens shrugged. “But I wasn’t trying to take a stab at the… practice you’re doing here. I was merely stating a truth. If the Captain wants us to get into the slums, I’d say there’s no better way than bringing a Healer to their door.”

“That’s forbidden—”

“Mas, shut it.” Captain Edric didn’t even look the man in the eye, but instead glanced at Valens. “You want to heal those people? That’s a fine line to walk here, Valens. You’re aware that Baht did exactly the same thing back in the day, right?”

“Well, Baht wasn’t a member of the Golden Ward, and I’m guessing there hasn’t been a serial killer out murdering innocent women in those days,” Valens said. “And I don’t want to sneak my way into the slums and rally people to some cause. If we want these people to trust us enough to spill everything they know, then I think we need a base, some place to bring them in and learn about them without making them suspicious.”

“A base?” Garran asked.

“A clinic,” Valens nodded. “Have the sick delivered to my doorstep. This way, not only can I earn their trust, but I can search for their souls to see if they’re involved in any dark business.”

The air in the room changed as faces creased in consideration.

Valens knew it was risky, but he was speaking the truth. This way not only could he heal those sick kids, he could also get a sense of what was truly happening in the slums. After the sight that welcomed him in Knuckle Alley, he was sure that the poor ring of the city wasn’t somewhere where either the King or the Church cared much for.

That’s just basic common sense. If you neglect a community of people, then you can’t be shocked when they turn against you.

“We can have some of our guys there as assistants to keep things in check,” he added then, for good measure, which prompted Mas to give him a surprised look.

Yes, my zealous friend. No need to be too suspicious of me. We’re in the same line of work here.

But of course, the clinic plan wasn’t just about the murders of those women. No, his Trial told him that shadows were gathering in Belgrave, and the members of the Midnight Assembly also mentioned strange things were happening in the poor ring of the city.

Two birds with one stone. That’s as good as it gets.

“Do it,” Captain Edric said, breaking the silence. He got a few looks from the others, a wide-eyed stare from Mas, but he waved them off. “I’ll speak with the Bishop about the deal and the funds. In the meantime, find a place in the slums.”

“I’ll—”

“Find a good place,” the Captain said over him, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t make it too obvious. Keep it small, as well. We can’t have people thinking a single Healer is better than a group of Priests.”

“Eh,” Garran grinned. “It’s true, though.”

“Uh,” Dain grunted.

“So I’ve heard,” Percival nodded.

Captain Edric rubbed his face tiredly. “That’s not what we’re talking about here. Get your heads out of your asses and make yourselves useful. I’m tired of carrying this team all by myself.”

“The old man is speaking,” Garran muttered. “There he is.”

“He is back,” Percival sighed. “It was about time.”

“Go!” Captain Edric thumped a fist on the table, then trudged briskly off toward the door, paused, and gave a look over his shoulder to Valens. “Be here tomorrow, and bring the Wailborn, too. Might as well put her to good use. I don’t want her rotting in that house.”

Really?

Then the Captain… smiled and walked off.

Was that an act? The inner politics of this team are a bit complicated, aren’t they?

In a few seconds, the others rushed out, with Percival picking up the sheets scattered about the tables. “They have no respect for the craft,” he was mumbling, entirely unaware that Valens was still there, staring at the door in shock. “Illiterate men… They will be the end of us.”

Did I just convince the Captain to open a clinic for me? Speak with the Bishop, will he? Secure funds for the operation, did he say? Is this what it feels like to be supported?

It was, for the lack of a better word, glorious. Being appreciated was like no other drug.

We have work to do. Before that, though, I should tell Selin the news. I wonder what she would think when she learns I’ve gotten her a job in the Church.

Not precisely the Church, of course, but a place established to fork out information from the poor while masquerading itself as a free-of-charge health clinic was too long of an explanation to Valens’s thinking.

I’ll just say it’s a clinic. That’s better. Have the Captain explain if there’s ever a need for it.

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